Steele Resolve: A Hawke Family Story

by Gwyn McNamee

  Squealing tires at that end of the alley have us pulling apart and looking to the left. A black SUV slows, and dark metal flashes in the open windows.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “No!” My cry rings out and echoes against the brick alley with the gunshots.

  Byron gasps and clutches his chest before my brain can even process what just happened. He drops to his knees and then onto his back on the dirty pavement.

  The SUV speeds away around the side of The Back Pocket, and blood spreads on Byron’s right side.

  “Jesus Christ.” I drop to my knees and press my hand over his on top of the wound.

  That wasn’t an accident or random violence. That was a goddamn drive-by assassination attempt. And they were aiming for me. Byron just got caught in the crossfire.

  He’s right.

  This is dangerous to both of us. Far more so than I want to admit. I thought I could keep him safe. I thought my men could protect him even if we weren’t together, but that was a pipe dream. And the tightening in my chest tells me I’m in far more trouble with Byron than I ever imagined.

  “Hold on, stay with me. Don’t you fucking leave me again.”

  His eyelids flutter closed, and I use my free hand to grab his face.

  “No!”

  Pounding footsteps echo through the alley behind me.

  “Mr. Abello, is everything all right?”

  I glance over my shoulder at the useless man I had following Byron in a fruitless attempt to keep him safe. “Does everything look all right, you fucking idiot? Call an ambulance now!”

  Byron coughs and winces before turning his face toward me.

  I slap his cheek. “Open your eyes, Byron. Look at me.”

  His eyelids flutter, and his slitted dark eyes meet mine.

  “Don’t. You. Fucking. Leave. Me.”

  13

  “This is your fault, you know.” Savage’s words are low and meant only for me. The truth of them slices through every fiber of my being and straight to my already shattered heart.

  The people milling around us don’t even glance in our direction. They have more important things to worry about if they’re here.

  I heave out a sigh and drop my head down into my hands for the hundredth time since arriving here hours ago and called Savage to tell him what happened. “I know.”

  It is all my fault. My fault for pushing Byron to choose me. My fault for going to the bar, knowing Castillo was actively looking for a way to take me out. My fault for ever thinking I could have anything as good in my life as Byron.

  Men like me don’t get to have someone like Byron. He’s good. Truly good. A genuinely caring and kind person who wouldn’t wish harm on anyone. The polar opposite of me. I’ve hurt people. I’ve killed. I’ve done things that will send me straight to Hell on Judgment Day. We are oil and water. Never meant to mix. Never meant to stay together.

  Yet I forced it.

  I forced him.

  I put him here.

  My chest tightens, and I fight back a sob and squeeze my eyes shut against the burn of another round of tears.

  Savage shifts closer. “He never should have been anywhere near you. You’re the reason he’s here right now.”

  “I fucking know.”

  I don’t need Savage to tell me what’s glaringly obvious as we sit in the hospital waiting room. Not with my hands still tinged with Byron’s blood that wouldn’t completely wash off once the paramedics pulled me away from him. Not when I haven’t been able to take a full breath since the moment those shots were fired. Not when tears have been falling for the first time since I can even remember, for the man who took a fucking bullet because he was with me.

  I sniff and scrub my hands over my face.

  He’s fine.

  I just keep telling myself that over and over again.

  He’s going to be okay.

  The bullet went through and missed any vital organs, but seeing him on the ground, bleeding like that was enough to steal my breath and make my heart stop. It should have been me. It should have been me.

  I turn my head toward Savage. I hadn’t even noticed him come into the waiting area until he settled right next to me. “Where is everyone else?”

  He considers me for a moment, then tilts his head toward the front reception area. “I told them to wait. I didn’t want to create a major scene here. I updated them already, so they know he’s okay.”

  A major scene.

  It would have been. All the Hawkes attacking me at once for what I did.

  I shake my head and meet Savage’s eyes. Maybe if I’m looking right at him, he’ll be able to see the truth of what I’m about to say. “I know you’re not going to believe me, but I care about him. I more than care about him.”

  I fucking love him.

  And that’s more terrifying than any threat being made against me, any gun being shoved against my head. It’s why I’ve been so damn reluctant to admit it to myself, let alone him.

  Silence greets me instead of a laugh or Savage calling me a liar. Both of which I expected. Both of which would be appropriate given my history, given our history.

  Instead, he releases a deep sigh and shoves his hand through his thick dark hair. “You have no idea the position you put him in, that you’ve put us in.”

  I bark out a laugh that doesn’t hold an ounce of humor. “But I do. Believe me, I’ve spent months considering how my life and my involvement in his affected him and exposed him to the filth of my life. And I know you guys may never fully trust me, but Byron does.”

  Savage nods slowly. “I know. He told me, and he’s a pretty good judge of character. Usually.”

  I chuckle and shake my head as I drop my elbows to my knees. “He hooked up with me. So maybe not so good.”

  The man I once called my best friend shrugs. “Or he just saw what we were too blinded by the past to see. That you are not your father. That you are your own man with your own plan and your own way of doing things.”

  Wow.

  Those are not the words I expected to hear from this man anytime, let alone after what just happened.

  When the fuck did he get so enlightened?

  “But even your way of doing things has put him in danger, and it could put us in danger again.”

  I shake my head. “No, because that way of doing things is going to change.”

  He narrows his blue eyes on me. “What do you mean?”

  I sit back up and look over at him. “This had to be Castillo. He’s been moving in on our territory since Dom died, and I got into it with him in my office a couple weeks ago. Someone left a message suggesting they knew about me going to The Back Pocket. He wanted to make a statement. Taking me out was the best way.”

  But he missed.

  It may have been a massive mistake for him, but it was eye-opening for me in a way nothing else has been before. A way that changes everything.

  He doesn’t really care about me. All he cares about is power. Controlling New Orleans has always been his goal, since the moment he moved in and started challenging Dom. Dom couldn’t end it. I should have a long fucking time ago instead of playing games with him and believing we could work things out without bloodshed.

  No one avoids bloodshed in this life.

  I just never thought it would be the blood of someone I love because I never thought I could love anyone. Not like this.

  I shake my head. “This was never about Byron, and even if he didn’t take me out, he no doubt has some sort of proof of where I was. It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows and any chance I had of maintaining my business will be gone, at least, that side of the business.”

  Here it goes.

  The thing I’ve been thinking about since the second Byron hit the ground. It’s something I should have considered a long time ago, back when I first realized how I felt about Byron.

  I should have chosen him then. I didn’t, but I’m choosing him now. It’s the ultimate grand gesture. The th
ing I hope will show the Hawkes and Byron how serious I am about making things work for all of us.

  “Savage, I have a proposition for you.”

  His dark eyebrows rise. “Why do I have a feeling this is going to sound crazy.”

  “Probably because it is.”

  I groan as I pull the button-down shirt on over my shoulders. Pain shoots in my side, but I grit my teeth and do the buttons as fast as I can. I just want to get the fuck out of here.

  Fuck if they want to keep me here longer; I’m leaving AMA. I can’t spend another minute in this place with the smell of antiseptic and death permeating my pores.

  There’s no doubt a shitstorm waiting for me outside this room. Luca’s not going to be happy I kicked him out of here when they finally let him come in for a visit, nor are the Hawkes going to be pleased with me getting shot while being out with their enemy.

  Fuck.

  It only proves the Hawkes’ point. Luca is dangerous, no matter what he intends, and no matter how much he may do his best to try to prevent it. People around him are going to get hurt, people who care about him. People who love him.

  And Jesus, it scares the fuck out of me that I’m one of those people. Because when those pops of gunfire sounded, my first instinct was to jump in front of him. To protect him. The one they were aiming at. And I swear to God, that kiss right before had almost convinced me to give him a chance. To risk losing the Hawkes for him.

  Insanity.

  It doesn’t matter how much I love him. It will never work. Not ever. It can’t.

  I grab the discharge papers and shuffle out into the hallway. Luca leans against the wall opposite my room with his head dropped down. My blood covers the front of his shirt and jacket, and though his hands have since been washed, they still hold a slightly red tinge. He raises his head slowly, and his eyes meet mine. The red rims around them make my chest ache a little bit. Either he’s tired or been crying or both.

  “Where’s Savage and everyone else?” They stormed the ER and were frantic until I assured them I was fine and that I needed space.

  Luca pushes off the wall and steps toward me. “He left.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “He just left me here? With you?”

  He chuckles, but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes. “He knows I can be trusted to get you home safely.”

  “Oh yeah? How does he all of a sudden know that?”

  He shrugs. “Because we had a little talk.” He holds his arm out down the hallway to indicate that we should start walking. “Are you sure you don’t want a wheelchair?”

  I scoff. “I’m fine.”

  I’m really not. Despite the drugs they gave me, the pain is fucking unbearable. I grit my teeth and step in front of him toward the exit.

  He holds up his hands in resignation. “Okay, okay.”

  “So, what did you and Savage talk about?” I can’t imagine those two sitting there chatting without going at each other. Volatile is the only word I could use to describe the relationship between them. Nor can I see Savage leaving me with this man willingly.

  “We had a heart-to-heart. I told him I’m not giving you up, and I’m leaving the business.”

  Whoa.

  I jerk to a halt and grab onto the metal railing running along the wall for support. I must have misheard him, or the narcotics are messing with my head. “What?”

  He steps through the sliding glass doors and into the darkness of night, and I follow him out slowly. No way I just heard that right.

  He shrugs and walks toward a black sedan at the curb. “Come on.”

  “Whose car is that?”

  “It’s one of my guys. Both of our cars are still back by the bar.”

  He’s right. He rode with me in the ambulance. I hadn’t even thought about getting home. He holds open the door for me, and I wince as I slide in and buckle my seatbelt. He joins me in the back and raises the window partition between the driver and us.

  A thick silence hangs around us. One heavy with unsaid words and questions.

  Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “So, what’s this about you leaving the business?”

  He sucks in a deep breath and stares out the window as we leave the parking lot. “I thought the most important thing in my life was establishing myself, building an empire, rebuilding my name, but seeing you bleeding on the fucking ground tonight showed me I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

  His head turns toward me, and the real pain and honesty of his words shine crystal clear in his dark, tear-dampened eyes. “You’re what’s important. This is what’s important. I’m not going to hide who I am anymore, and I can’t do this job and be who I am. So, I’m going to do something else.”

  I can’t help the sardonic laugh that rumbles from my chest.

  Ow. Shit.

  I grab my side. “What the hell are you going to do?”

  Men like Luca can’t just walk away from the life. He was born into it, had a chance to escape it, and still chose to come back. Even if it’s true, how long can it really last?

  I can’t get my hopes up.

  A grin occupies his face. “I’ll continue to run my father’s legitimate businesses, and I approached Savage about a potential joint business venture.”

  “No fucking way, and Savage is actually considering it?”

  This all sounds like some sick joke. There’s no way.

  He chuckles and nods. “I told you, we had a heart-to-heart. I want to go legit, and I have what I think is a pretty good idea that could be a very lucrative business for all of us.

  “And what would that be?”

  A tiny flicker of hope blossoms in my chest.

  He’s being serious. He’s actually going to leave. And if he leaves…

  Does that mean we might actually have a chance?

  The car comes to a stop at a red light, and he turns to face me fully. “Well, he and Gabe already have a strong name when it comes to strip clubs.”

  “Yeah…but they’re not going to let you in on that. They don’t need your help.”

  He grins. “You’re right. They don’t need me for their current clubs, but the one thing that I know that they don’t is what gay men want.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I proposed a male strip club. Something that would entice the female crowd and the gay crowd.”

  He’s fucking joking. He must be.

  Or, it’s the drugs.

  I shake my head and chuckle with my hand pressed to the bandage on my side. “Jesus, you’re insane.”

  He reaches out and takes my free hand in his. Our fingers twine together, and he squeezes.

  My heart thunders in my chest. The dark eyes that have stared into mine so many times with lust, anger, and pain stare back with something completely different this time.

  Something I’ve always wanted.

  Love.

  Oh, my God. Is he serious?

  He leans over and presses his lips to mine in a reverent kiss so unlike all the other ones he’s ever given me. They were always harsh, claiming and demanding, done to make a statement and prove a point. But this…this is a kiss that says so much more. It’s an apology and a promise for the future.

  “I love you, Byron, and even though you’ve fought it every fucking step of the way, I know you love me, too.” He holds up his free hand to stop me from interrupting. “Savage is going to discuss it with Gabe. Maybe I am crazy for suggesting it, but what I do know is, I’m for sure crazy about you, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make this work with you and with the Hawkes.” He shrugs. “And who knows, The Steele Hawke Cage may just be the next greatest thing in New Orleans.”

  His lips brush against mine in another gentle, reverent kiss. “The next greatest thing to you and me, that is.”

  Epilogue

  I scan the yard for Luca, but he must still be in the house. Angelina splashes into the pool and comes up from the water giggling. Landon tosses her in the air again, and she comes back down with another squ
eal. I take a sip of my beer and smile. The kid seems genuinely happy—something I wasn't so sure I would ever see after Ben died.

  Landon seems to have stepped into his new stepfather role easily, and Angel loves spending time with him. My chest aches, and I rub at it absentmindedly with my hand. We all miss Ben. That's never going to change, but seeing Storm and Angel happy gives me real hope for the future.

  Luca steps up next to me and bumps his shoulder against mine.

  For our future.

  “She's a cute kid, huh?” His dark eyes focus on Angel in the water.

  I grin and glance at him from the corner of my eye. “She is. Pretty good kid, too.”

  “You ever think about that?”

  I freeze with my beer halfway up to my mouth and turn my head slowly to face him. He watches Angel and Landon in the water with a half-smile curling his lip.

  “About what?”

  He motions toward them with his hand holding the beer. “That. Having kids. Getting married. The white picket fence and all that shit.”

  I practically choke on the beer in my throat and cough. “You can't be serious…”

  He's surely joking.

  It's only been six months since the shooting. Six months that shifted between being agonizing and amazing as we worked out everything between us and with the Hawkes. Hours of talking and facing the realities of what our entangled pasts meant. Lots of anger and forgiveness. In the end, it was all worth it to get here today, to a place and time where we can all be together to share a meal as friends.

  But what Luca is talking is just nonsense. “You don't want to get married.”

  He chuckles and turns to face me with a quick glance at the rest of the Hawkes milling around us in the yard and on the patio. “Why do you say it like that?”

  “Like what?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Like it's the craziest suggestion in the world.”

  Maybe because it is.

  Luca gave up his empire to be with me. Everything he came to town for, he just tossed out the window to be with me, to ensure we could be safe. He’s given up so much. He can't really want to get married right now.